


Dance Me On And On

by Zai42



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dancing, I'm Sorry, Kissing, Multi, Other, Stream of Consciousness, Weirdness, spoilers up through 119
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 06:43:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: Jon and Nikola dance.





	Dance Me On And On

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up through 119 because I'm a mess and a disaster.

There is no clear moment between Unknowing and _Knowing,_ but it's Nikola's arms that he focuses on, the press of her-its-their hands that he marks as what sends him skittering into the light of _Beholding_ as she-it-he-they holds him tenderly, a lover wrapping him in a waltz, a face that only tenuously belongs to her-them-him pressed to his own, cheek to cheek, living flesh to mummified costume, and he thinks

  
_these are fingers, laced with mine_

  
as Nikola spins them, dips him low, mouth to mouth though there is no cavity, no tongue to press to his, behind the lips he kisses and he _Knows_ now, what the bloody core of this thing he is entangled with _is,_ and he feels pity and he feels contempt and he feels _nothing,_ though he wonders about the skin it-they-she-he wears, if there is a sliver in it of the thing that he is now, the person that housed the Archivist, if the voice that is Gertrude's _now_ was still Gertrude's _then,_ if she feels all her work slipping away or if

  
and then he is not wrapped in arms, or he is not wrapped in Nikola, and for a brief moment he _aches_ and _longs_ because he was close, so close, to understanding and realization but the bite of pain calls him back to _himself,_ or what he thinks might be himself, the concept muddied and blood-soaked and he remembers a voice insisting he was _Jon,_ though the word means little, less than _Archivist,_ but he clings to the name and not the title and sees Tim and what Tim is clutching and Tim's fury and thinks

  
_I won't lose you too_

  
and

  
_a weapon_

  
and Knows that he _will_ lose or win or both and his tongue is heavy and dexterous as he pulls the truth from Tim like teeth from softened gums and he Knows he is beyond redemption in his eyes, and he clings not to reality, weak and dying and useless, but to the truth in unreality and then

  
and then--

  
\--there is light and sound and _pain,_ and the promise of nothing, and Jon scrambles towards unconsciousness like an insect fleeing the light, fighting the Archivist for every inch of it until he finally faints, and Knows nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> no ragrets


End file.
